


A Dreadful Thirst

by ScenicRoute



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood Drinking, Control Issues, Fluff and Angst, Gay Disaster Keith (Voltron), Implied/Referenced Character Death, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, M/M, Mild Gore, Monster Hunter Shiro, Past Relationship(s), Starvation, Trust Issues, Vampire Keith (Voltron), Vampire hunter Shiro, Withdrawal Symptoms, past sheith, pinning lance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 17:19:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15539181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScenicRoute/pseuds/ScenicRoute
Summary: Keith never thought he would end up in space after he left the garrison, but here he was light-years away from Earth with two aliens and three idiots he'd never met. And worse, he was running out of supplements and no one but Shiro knows.Join Keith Kogane as he struggles to trust his new team and faces the nature of the thirst that haunts him.





	1. Sleepless Nights

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this first chapter is so short, but they do get longer. This is also my first published work since I was 12 so hopefully it's any good.
> 
> Written because of the dire need for more Vampire!Keith Voltron fics.

“Can’t you just try?”

“No! Shiro, you know what would happen. I-It could literally kill me.”

“Not even a drop?”

“No!”

An uncomfortable silence fell. It was the middle of the Castle of Lions’ artificial night and everyone else was asleep except for Keith and Shiro who regularly went without.

“Alright, how many supplements do you have left.”

Keith produced a clear bottle with no more than four sickeningly red pills just larger than peas. Shiro carefully slipped one out of the bottle and placed it in his pocket to give it to Pidge later and make clear just how little time Keith had.

Shiro gave a disappointed sigh. “And how long can you go without these.”

Keith stared at his now restless and shaking hands. “Once I get off of them...two days. After that you’d have to lock me up or-“ he choked on the next words, not wanting to recognize or admit them. “I’ll need a lot. Probably more than one person can give… God, it’s been years.”

Just the thought had Keith shivering. Being on supplements was hell—head-pounding, nauseating, body-aching hell—but it was better than the alternative.

Shiro sat gingerly on the edge of Keith’s bed. “I know this is hard for you. Everything about it sucks, but you have to find someone who you can trust with this. Even at her best Pidge will take…maybe a week to replicate the supplements and you’ll have to tell her what they’re for. If you’re careful, you can have a couple sessions over a few days and then you only need one person-“

Shiro froze when he realized Keith had gone entirely still: no nervous fidgeting, no characteristic shaking, not even breathing.

“Kei-”

And suddenly Keith had launched himself from the bed and what was a nervous, hunger-fueled anxiety blossomed into all-consuming panic. Keith paced from wall to wall and his hands flew from his hair to the T-shirt he wore to then scrub helplessly at his face. His eyes never left the floor as he stared ahead attempting to discern an impossible answer.

“Shiro, what am I going to do? I haven’t told anyone since you and that was eight years ago and I haven’t actually-actually drank since before that. What if I can’t control myself? What if kill someone? And even if I don’t, what am I supposed to tell the team and how are they gonna react? And what if Pidge can’t make the supplements? What will I do then? I can’t go back to drinking, Shiro, I really ca-”

“Keith!”

Keith stilled, but his usual shakes were amplified beyond what Shiro had ever seen. His eyes were wide and bloodshot, older and more tired than a boy of his age should have. It made Shiro think of a frightened animal.

He slowly approached Keith. “Look, I don’t know what you were like when you-” he paused, noticing the way Keith tensed, “when you drank. But we’ll get through this. I’ll handle the team and Pidge is brilliant. She’ll find a way to make more supplements if she has to give up sleep for a week. Right now, you just have to get through the next couple of days without starving. Okay?”

Keith visibly relaxed. He took a few deep breaths saying, “Yeah. Okay. I-I can do that.”

Shiro attempted to give his most reassuring smile. “Good. Now you get some rest. Think about who you’re going to talk to and when you’re ready to get Pidge, I’ll be there.”

Keith nodded half-heartedly retaking his seat on the edge of the bed and Shiro left, glancing back at the shivering figure of his oldest friend before closing the door behind him.

Keith spent the rest of the night staring at the space between his feet. Questions seemed to swim in the darkness and his mind offered few answers. This situation is the whole reason he lived away from people. Why he took supplements religiously and ventured into society rarely. And maybe he was a bit paranoid, but he’d gotten himself into a pretty bad… “drinking habit” a while back and after that- Well let’s just say he’d rather be safe than sorry.

\--

Shiro headed towards the observation deck to sort through his thoughts. Five days. Keith had five days to figure out how to trust someone enough to share a secret he had shared less than a handful of times before. And share it with people he’d met hardly a month prior. In all honesty, it was probably just dumb luck that the supplements were in his pocket when they all left earth and he had even gotten this much time.

Still. Keith was one of- No, was the most isolated and least trusting person he knew. This wouldn’t easy for him, but if he couldn’t do it in five days, Shiro didn’t know if he could handle him. He had turned his back on the hunting ways of his family shortly after meeting Keith. He’d hated the whole business in the first place. Killing things--people--just for the sake of killing them. It made him sick. All he ever wanted to do was help people, be someone that one day his kids could be proud to call their dad. Well, if he lived that long.

But, assuming this all worked out and Keith decided to trust someone, how could he be sure Keith wouldn’t drain them? Keith had quit drinking before they had met and, as far as he knew, the transition from supplements back to blood was none too pleasant. God, why did hunter blood have to be poisonous to vampires?

For a while, he just stared at the stars before him and let his mind wander. A silent prayer formed in the back of his consciousness that all would be fine. He would check with Keith to make sure that he figured out who talk to. After a session or two, they would talk to Pidge about creating more supplements from the one in his pocket under the guise of a blood disorder. Keith would get healthy again and get back on supplements and then they would address the entire team about his vampirism and Shiro would add his hunter heritage. That would be that and hopefully, the team would react well to the situation.

No matter how optimistic Shiro was and how much he hated everything his parents taught him, he had to admit their first rule was best right now: prepare for the worst.

He deftly made his way to his room and pulled a small kit from his drawer. It was the one thing Keith made sure Shiro had before they left. They didn’t know when or if they’d be back. He opened the latch with a small click and studied the shining new glass syringes within.

Quietly he set to work. This was something he could do in his sleep. Dexterously, he filled two syringes with holy water, painful and would slow down any vamp, but no real damage. The next he filled with vervain extract; it would produce the horrid sensation of burning from the inside and that’s about what it did. With luck that would knock Keith unconscious, if worse came to worst. Finally, he directed a needle to his own vein. If nothing else worked this would be his last option: a fatal dose of hunter’s blood.

Watching as the vial slowly filled, Shiro wondered if he could really do it. Kill his own best friend. The idea was mad, insane, bonkers. Keith was more than a friend, they were brothers, but he made a promise years ago that if Keith ever put anyone in danger, he would be the one to stop him.

Shiro was never one to break a promise, but if it was up to him, he wouldn’t even have to use the holy water.

 


	2. Headache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith considers his options, but doesn't realize how much time he's wasting. Shiro tries to help, but gets interrupted. When Shiro finally gets around to it, Keith isn't sure what's worse: the heartache or the pain of hunger.

The next morning, Keith followed his usual routine of waiting until he heard the castle’s inhabitants wake and make their way to breakfast. First Shiro, who faked the early riser type, then Hunk with his tired, lumbering steps yet eternally cheery persona. In ten minutes Coran would wake Princess Allura. Five minutes after that, Lance would start his morning routine which took exactly twelve minutes. Pidge would finally stumble into breakfast from her lab or bedroom having slept ten hours or not at all.

In the meantime, Keith got dressed and paced his room. How did he tell someone who barely knew him that he was

(a monster)

A vampire and that he needed to drink their blood or he would turn into a mindless killer.

How did he trust them not to immediately run and tell everyone or worse just laugh in his face?

More importantly, how did he trust himself not to drain them? It had been over a decade since he’d drank actual blood and he’d been addicted. More than addicted, he’d gone insane because of it. What if it happened again?

Footsteps.

Keith’s head shot up. Lance’s footsteps.

Wait minute. Now.

Keith left his room having more questions than answers and a pounding headache.

He arrived moments after Lance and deflected the usual sarcastic remark. Shiro threw him a concerned glance as he sat down in his usual place and, as usual, Keith picked at the plate Hunk placed before him. Sometimes he didn't know if routine was a blessing or a curse.

The rest of the day was a daze. Or really more of a blur. He vaguely remembered training for the day going like complete and utter shit--what could he say, he was distracted--and Shiro being kind enough to excuse him to clear his head.

Unfortunately, the opposite happened. As Keith thought over his

(food)

options, he really did, but he really only managed to come up with more problems.

Shiro obviously wasn’t an option and Allura too since he had no idea what alien blood would do to him.

Pidge was young and small so she had less blood to safely give, but it would kill two birds with one stone since he could ask her about supplements. But still, there was the issue of control…

Hunk was big which meant more blood, but he was also skittish. He was a worrier and not prone to acting without careful consideration beforehand--but every now and then…

And then there was Lance. The so-called ‘rival’ that he didn’t understand. Hyperactive, rash, and holding an inexplicable grudge against him.

This was all just so weird. How could he do this? Trust people he barely knew. Trust them to stay calm. To let him feed. To let him tell everyone at the right time. To take him seriously in the first place.

The day passed and the next and Keith kept thinking. One pill left and then none. Then he was interrupted by a battle just as Shiro started to ask him about it.

That sapped his energy. With the exhaustion setting in, it was harder to ignore the emptiness of his stomach. The way his veins grated like sandpaper and bones clicked like stones.

The tremors were more obvious now. Hunk asked him if he was feeling well. He would have said he was fine, but the lights burned his eyes and the aroma his nose. Suddenly he was dizzy and nauseous. The room spun and his stomach churned and was that drumming?

No.

He knew that beating, maybe too well. Keith huffed an excuse and made haste to his room.

\--

Shiro was exhausted after the battle, but he couldn’t help the feeling he was forgetting something important. Surely it could wait until he got a shower and a good meal. So that’s what he did.

An hour later he was walking into the castle’s main dining room where the team normally ate dinner together. Everyone was already seated, well except Keith, but he was normally late for dinner. Everything was going as usual. Same cheesy jokes, same complaints, same playful jabs, and plenty of the team’s new found love for calling him “space dad.”

It wasn’t until much later that he realized Keith never came to dinner. With everything settling down, Hunk posed a simple enough question that unfortunately carried too much weight at the moment.

“Hey, Shiro. Do you know what’s up with Keith? He was all pale and shaky earlier.”

Keith. That’s what he had forgotten. He was going to talk to Keith about who he was going to feed from but got interrupted by the alarms.

“What? Oh, I’m sure he’s fine, probably just tired. He said he wasn’t feeling well this morning and the battle probably didn’t help.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Soon after he made the best excuse he could to leave. Then he was sprinting down the hall.

It wasn’t like Keith to just skip meals. It was too important to him to keep up the human pretense and he made a promise to try to bond with the team despite anti-social tendencies.

Shiro new the days after the pills ran out were going to be hard, but Keith had been on them for years, maybe decades, without a slip-up or even a minor indulgence and now he was being forced off of them. With the stress of the day, Keith wasn’t mentally or physically prepared for the battle raging in his own body.

So he kept running.

He ran until he reached Keith’s room, hearing commotion inside. He paused just for a moment outside. Was he ready for this? He hadn’t faced a vampire in eight years, let alone a starving one.

But he had to. He wasn’t willing to let his friend suffer like this. He steeled himself and opened the door.

\--

The door couldn’t have closed soon enough or the lock have engaged sooner.

One second Keith was clawing off his jacket and the next he was collapsed on the floor. His body was like fire, heat flickering inconsistently through every part of him yet the room seemed an ice box. Every movement was like someone had taken his nerves, twisted them round, and shredded them on a rough stone.

Nausea turned to the incessant sensation of gnawing like something ravenous was trying to chew its way through him with vigor.

He thought he was far enough away, but even with the distance and the thick walls of the castle couldn’t make the pounding any less. It was disjointed and constant. A proud and arrogant sound, always shouting.

“I’m here, look at me! I am here, I am the thing that you want. Used for centuries to qualify something as living and now you’ll always hear me screaming, but I'll never be yours.”

It was bold and boisterous and so… naive.

Because Keith knew how fragile that screaming organ was. How easily it could be silenced. His own had sat still in his chest for decades now, only beating when his system was freshly gorged on blood...except now. Now it was erratic. Desperately trying to pump blood, pump life into his dying, barren system, through the desert that was his veins.

He’d stopped his fair share, whether he wanted to admit it or not, but right now he wanted nothing more than to still his own.

But his eyes ripped him from his thoughts. It was like they’d been dosed with acid. His vision blurred and then went red.

No.

No, this had to stop before-

_Crack_

And then his jaw was aching.

Keith wanted to shout. To scream. To call for Shiro. Maybe he could stop this.

But he contented himself to writhing on the floor as his body betrayed him.

And the screaming just seemed to get louder--until it wasn’t screaming anymore. It was nagging. A drumbeat egging him on.

“Come on… Come on… You know you want to.”

And boy did he want to.

Swift as lightning, he was at the door, pounding pounding pounding at the locking mechanism.

Open

_Open_

OPEN

The light came streaming in and his head was slamming into the wall--and that stench.

But the nagging was louder now and every fiber of his being was screaming at him to kill, to bite, to feed and so he fought. He fought with passion and rage and hunger. He fought in pain and madness and for a spell, he couldn’t tell who he was fighting.

“Keith”

What was that? Who was Keith?

“Keith, you need to stop this.”

Oh, he was Keith, that’s right. But what did he need to stop?

“Keith! Stop resisting me!”

Now he was more aware and he could feel the cold metal covering his mouth, how it scraped against his fangs.

His fangs-

His eyes went wide and he stilled, taking in his position.

Shiro had him pinned to the floor, leveraging his weight and size against Keith. He had pinned Keith’s hands above his head and pressed his metal hand against his mouth. And he must have seen the recognition in Keith’s eyes because he was loosening his grip--barely, but it was there.

“I’m going to uncover your mouth. OK?”

Keith nodded and took great heaving gulps of air as Shiro’s hand pulled away from his mouth.

“What happened?”

Keith sighed. “After the fight. It was the lights and the smell and I could hear everyone’s hearts and I just- I couldn’t-”

“It’s okay. You didn’t hurt anyone, but I’m not letting you go until you can get control of yourself.” He shifted slightly and it became clear that he wasn’t intending to get up.

Keith took a deep breath. He could do this. Fangs first.

They went easily enough, though not as easily as they should have, retracting into his sore and swollen gums.

“Alright, good,” Shiro said. “Now the eyes.”

Keith closed his eyes, but when he opened again his vision was still a bright scarlet. The more he tried the more frustrated he became and all he could manage was a mild flicker.

He groaned his frustration and dropped his head against the floor.

“Patience Keith. Remember patien-”

“Patience yields focus, I know.” He paused and shifted. “This shouldn’t be so hard.”

Shiro sighed, gaze softening. “I know. You’re tired and in pain. Not exactly good head-space for self-control.”

Looking at Keith now, Shiro could see the age in Keith’s eyes. The fear, the skeletons in the closet. He could also see the eighteen-year-old boy, the one who never got to live his life. The one who lost his family, watched them age from afar while they all thought he had died in an accident.

While Keith was rash and a bit impulsive, he had always been disciplined, at least when it came to himself. Shiro on the other hand. Discipline didn’t come so naturally for him. He was never much of a troublemaker, but he did have a rebellious streak. When Keith, the dark handsome stranger just a bit older than him, came to town… Well Shiro didn’t have much of a chance, did he?

So when Shiro found himself caught in the moment and once again mesmerized by Keith’s more mysterious nature, it was no surprise when he took advantage of the moment.

With Keith distracted he leaned down and pressed his lips to the red paladin’s. Keith tensed beneath him and for a moment Shiro thought he should pull away.

Until Keith kissed back. It was just like before. Wonderful and perfect and full of a thousand words unsaid. It was a slow burning passion, but with Keith, the wait was always worth it. The kiss deepened and neither was sure who was leading it anymore, but they didn’t care.

Shiro’s grip on Keith’s hands loosened and ghosted down his arms, his chest, his stomach, and pushed up the black shirt in the way of Keith’s skin. Keith brought his hands to Shiro’s hair (he always preferred Shiro’s hair messy) and eventually ran them down his spine like old times.

Shiro gasped into the kiss, but he refused to pull away so soon. Who knew when he would get this chance again?

Eventually, he had to breathe and when he did, he looked down to see Keith panting, shirt pushed high on his chest exposing a pale, muscled torso--and with scarlet eyes brighter than before. And then they faded to the near black of his natural color.

“I-uh” Shiro lifted himself off of Keith, and they would both be lying if they said they didn’t miss the warmth. “Sorry.”

Shiro turned to leave. With his head a little clearer, he could realize that Keith’s control was teetering on the edge like it always was after this sort of thing, and right now the odds weren’t in their favor.

“Shiro.”

He turned in the doorway to Keith looking disheveled sitting in the middle of the floor.

Keith wouldn’t look at him. “We broke it off for a reason. I don’t want either of us ending up hurt. Don’t think that means I don’t care, but I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

Shiro smiled in that sad, but fond sort of way. “I know.”

He turned to leave again and was about to close the door when he heard it: growling. Shiro hardly had time to register that Keith was on his feet before he was plunging a syringe of holy water into Keith’s neck.

Keith hissed and fell back into the room. He scrambled to the back wall and clawed at his chest as the acidic sensation crept through him. Shiro slammed the door and quarantined it. No one would be getting in or out of that room until morning.

In the meantime, Keith was brought crashing to reality by a new and searing pain that, coupled with his exhaustion, pushed him into a false sleep.

 


	3. Fatigue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith wakes to Shiro telling him he’s out of time. He has to make a decision today. But will he make the right one?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late but my great grandmother just passed away. I normally don’t like to make excuses, but everything is just insane right now. I’m gonna try to get back onto some kind of schedule soon. Thank you to everyone reading.

The next morning Keith woke to hand on his shoulder. His chest still burned and his throat was aching, ensuring he couldn’t mistake the night before as a bad dream. 

“Shiro?”

“Yeah, it’s me Keith.”

“What did you do?”

Shiro pursed his lips. “Holy water.”

Keith grimaced and tried to swallow the pain in his throat. He sighed, “Good, that’s good.”

“Keith, how is that good? It’s like I used acid as a sedative.”

“Because it meant you didn’t have to use something stronger.”

Shiro caught his tongue. He hadn’t thought of that. “That doesn’t change the fact that you’re essentially out of time.” He pressed his fingers to his eyes. “You have to feed  _ today _ or I will have to use something stronger.

Keith’s eyes seemed to darken and he nodded his understanding.

“Can you stand?”

Keith nodded and carefully shifted to take Shiro’s arm. He stood slowly, hoping his legs wouldn’t fall from under him. He clung to Shiro shaking like a leaf on a windy day in autumn. 

“You know you have to go to breakfast, right? If you don’t, everyone will be worried”

Keith regretted not eating before everything had gotten to him. He could feel himself breaking down and now he was going to have to face everyone looking worse than ever. Still, maybe he could talk to someone after.

So he steeled his nerves and resigned himself to a rather painful morning.

He limped through the halls with Shiro half carrying him. Shiro was usually up long before everyone else and they both silently prayed that this 

morning would be no exception. 

They reached the door  when Keith rasped, “Wait, someone’s in there.”

“Shit.” Shiro shook his head. “Can you walk on your own?”

“Shiro.”

Shiro glanced at Keith who was supporting himself on the wall.

“Shiro, I can hear it. It’s Hunk. I can hear his heart.” His eyes were clenched shut, like he was afraid to open them. 

“Hey, hey, look at me.” Shiro grabbed Keith by the shoulders.

Keith shook his head. “I can’t. I can’t go in there.”

“Look at me.”

Keith took a great heaving breath that was too rasping for Shiro and slowly looked up. His eyes were flickering. Fading from that of the tired human to the rabid hunger of the vampire within.

“Calm down. You only have to make it long enough for everyone to see you and then we can get you actually fed.”

“Shiro, if you let me in there, I am literally going to rip Hunk’s throat out. I can’t keep it in control.”

“So find an anchor. What keeps you human?”

Keith doubled over and Shiro thought he was going to throw up before remembering there was nothing to throw up. Rather Keith spent the next sentence dry heaving between words.

“Love and pain. And we both saw how the first one went.”

“And you’re not strong enough to heal.”

Keith shook his head.

What could they do? Keith was in no position to take any real damage and right now ‘love’ was not a viable (or safe) option. But Keith had to attend this morning or people would start asking too many questions. There was no illness to blame it on in space and Keith hadn’t been injured in the fight the day before. Everyone was aware of that. 

“Holy water.”

Shiro was pulled quickly from his thoughts by a suggestion he never would have thought possible: a vampire  _ asking _ for a dose of holy water.

“Use the holy water. I know you have another one. I’ve had some rest so it won’t knock me out again, but it’ll buy me time.”

“Isn’t that a little extreme?”

“We don’t have a choice.”

_ He’s right. Why does he have to be right? _

Shiro reached into his pocket for the other vial of holy water.

“You know the only other nonlethal I have after this is vervain, right?”

“You won’t have to use it. Now hurry, I think I just heard Lance getting up.”

Keith straightened and braced himself against the wall. In all his years, he never thought he would ask for an injection of holy water, but right now he would rather that than killing his friends. If he could call them that. Despite his slipping control, he did know he didn’t want anyone hurt, and he could see the growing doubt on Shiro’s face. So he took it upon himself. Keith took Shiro’s hand and directed the needle to the point where neck meets shoulder. He put on the most resolute look he could muster and nodded to Shiro. Right now, this was all he was sure of. Shiro and his constancy. A lover, then brother, and who knows what they are now, but he was always there.

That look was all Shiro needed and he plunged the needle in. Keith hissed, convulsed, and clawed at the injection sight. He foamed at the mouth and threw his head back until he stilled, his eyes snapping open and the color left them.

He slumped forward onto Shiro’s chest. All he could do was breathe.

Finally he found his voice. “Thank you.”

He stood as well as he could and lead the way into breakfast.

\--

The two of them deflected questions easily enough and after curiosity was relatively quelled, the meal went without incident.

Eventually, Pidge left for her lab, Allura for the bridge, and Hunk to clean the kitchen. With only Keith, Shiro, and Lance left in the room, Keith decided to take it as both a sign and an opportunity. He discreetly signaled for Shiro to leave and the black paladin rose from the table, making a vague reference to training.

With Lance relaxing in a chair, Keith couldn’t help but feel more nervous than scared, more anxious than hungry. The sudden contrast to the emotions of the morning was dizzying. 

How did he go about telling Lance, of all people, what he was and in the same conversation ask for his blood? How do you ask someone to, quite literally, put their life in your hands? Or was it fangs.

Besides, Keith had never told anyone but Shiro and he had already known vampires at least existed. Lance probably thought they were at best a myth and at worst a bad movie trope. 

And how would he react? The way Keith saw it, Lance could react one of two ways: with helpful acceptance or disgusted fear. Keith hoped for the former, but was, in all honesty, preparing for the latter. He could try keep Lance here, make him see that being a vampire didn’t make him altogether dangerous or inhuman. He was still Keith. Just with a few rather pointy additions and odd needs.

“-find something better to do.”

Keith was pulled from his thoughts by his chance slipping away. Lance had stood to leave having gotten board sitting in silence with a brooding Keith.

Lance was nearly out the door when Keith roused himself from his panic.

“Wait.”

Lance glanced back, unaccustomed to Keith wanting a private conversation with him. But today was different. As much as he disliked Keith and his, in Lance’s personal opinion, overblown reputation, Lance had noticed how tired Keith seemed, how little he ate, and the way he grimaced with every move. Maybe today things could be different; maybe they could find something to like about each other.

So Lance stayed.

“What’s up?”

Keith sighed and looked at his hands. He’d been so worried about how to deal with Lance’s reaction he forgot to plan how to start. Lance noticed his nerves.

“Keith? What’s wrong?”

This was so unlike him. Keith was normally brash in his own quiet way. Controlled and confident. What could have shaken him so badly?

“I’m not really sure how to say this, so I’m just gonna say it. I’m not really sure how you’re going to take it.”

In Lance’s mind, it sounded like Keith was starting a cheesy love confession. But that couldn’t be right, right? Keith was his rival. Keith hated him. Right?

“Keith, whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

They made eye contact. Lance attempted to be comforting in contrast to the distress he found on Keith’s face. Keith took it as a relative encouragement to continue.

He was quickly collapsing in on himself, both physically and mentally, but at least he was too busy to feel hungry. He took a moment longer to answer, as if giving Lance a chance to run away before everything started.

“I’m not exactly human. I mean, I am, but I’m not. And I need you to help me with something that might be dangerous, but I wouldn’t ask if-”

“Okay, slow down. What do you mean you’re not human?”

Keith swallowed. “I used to be.”

“Again, how are you not human? Especially if you ‘used to be.’”

Why did Lance have to ask questions? Why couldn’t he just let him explain?

“You know how there are myths where people can be turned into other things, creatures I guess.”

“Yeah.”

Lance was looking suddenly unconvinced.

Keith shrugged. “Well, I am one.”

Lance froze, a shocked expression on his face. He and Keith sat in silence. Lance processing what seemed to be an impossibility and Keith waiting with baited breath for a positive, or really, any response.

Lance’s face twisted into a ridiculous grin and suddenly he was laughing. A loud, gut-wrenching, side-aching laugh. It sounded like chimes and the beginning of something good, but it was, in this moment, the opposite of what Keith expected. Right now, laughter was arrogant and rude, like it was jabbing him in the chest and calling him an idiot. It seemed like it would never end, but Keith wasn’t sure he wanted it to.

“Is this some kind of joke?” Lance was laughing so hard he was crying.

“No, Lance, it’s-”

“Because if it’s a joke,” Lance snapped, “you must think I’m a fucking moron. You know, if you had said you were an alien, I might have believed you, but mythical creature, really?” 

He turned and stalked toward the door. Keith called after him.

“Lance! It’s not a joke. I wouldn’t do that.”

Lance reeled around. “Then what are you, Keith! A vampire. A werewolf. Or I know, you’re a goddamn fairy.”

Keith was frozen. This was not at all what he had wanted or expected. He would never try to pull something like this on Lance. For all their arguing, most of Keith and Lance’s squabbles were just bickering. Nothing really behind it, but this was Lance being completely and truly angry with him. Despite his remarks, Keith did think Lance had value and he certainly didn’t think Lance was a moron.

“Forget it,” Lance spat. “It’s not like you care.”

With that, he was gone and Keith was left wondering how things could have gone so wrong. With the adrenaline fading, Keith could feel his hunger returning. He was officially out of options and out of time. If he was lucky, he could make it back to his room in time to lock himself in.

\--

Shiro didn’t expect Keith’s conversation with Lance to go well. Keith hadn’t been exactly eloquent when he told Shiro. The  _ only _ reason Shiro believed him was because he already knew it was a possibility and he knew what to look for. In his case, it was just putting the last few pieces of the puzzle together, not painting the whole picture.

He would give Keith the benefit of the doubt, but he wasn’t that good with people, especially not Lance. Their relationship was inconsistent at the best of times, but Shiro could see why Keith picked him. He’d give it a little time. See how Lance actually took it and go from there. If he had to, Shiro was willing to do all the talking from here on, but whoever Keith had picked, they’d needed to hear it from him first. 

He really did try to give training a shot, but he was too distracted--unfocused, so he found himself wandering the halls. He had just managed to lose himself in thought when an angry Lance slammed into his shoulder.

“Sorry Shiro,” Lance huffed, barely pausing as he continued to storm down the hall.

Shiro called after Lance and, when he failed to answer, sprinted after him. “Lance, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Shiro stepped in front of him. He didn’t intend to have this conversation through a door and that’s where Lance seemed to be headed. “I know Keith talked to you. What’d he say?”

“He called me a moron, that’s what,” mumbled Lance.

“That doesn’t seem right. I know you two don’t always get along, but he was going to tell you something important.”

“Important?” Lance rolled his eyes. “If you can call the dumbest prank I’ve ever heard important.”

Shiro suppressed a chuckle. That wasn’t what he was expecting, but maybe it wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t a completely negative reaction, just not a positive one either.

“He wasn’t pulling a prank on you.”

Lance went wide eyed. “Are you in on it too?”

“In a way,” Shiro grumbled, “but I swear it’s not a prank.”

Lance was slumped before Shiro with a look on his face that reminded Shiro of a kicked puppy. Shiro could almost see the questions on his face. In Lance’s mind, this was one very rude joke and an insult to his intelligence. Eventually, Shiro couldn’t look him in the eye anymore. Instead he focused on the space between his and Lance’s feet.

“Look, I know it sounds crazy and I can explain it all in time, but it’s not a prank or a joke and Keith wasn’t trying to call you stupid. Actually, he was putting a huge amount of faith it you. He doesn’t usually tell people about this at all.”

The sincerity and vulnerability in Shiro’s voice wasn’t enough to convince Lance of much… but it was enough to make him listen.

“Okay, so  _ if _ Keith is some kind of creature, what does it have to do with me?”

Shiro looked around the room for a moment. “Keith isn’t just a creature, Lance. He’s a vampire. And yes, I am aware of how crazy that sounds.” 

Lance was about to respond in what seemed to be a rather contradictory way.

“I can’t prove it. Heck, I can’t even tell you when he was turned. But I can tell you it’s true and he needs your help.”

Lance was silent for a long moment. “Say I believe you. Why would he need my help?”

“He’s starving.”

Lance swallowed, stepping away from Shiro. That meant- That meant Keith was trying to ask for his- for his blood.

“Then why doesn’t he go to you?”

Shiro blinked. “What?”

“Clearly you know about this. And you and him are pretty close, so why not just ask you? Make things easier.”

“Because he can’t.”

Lance was looking more torn and confused by the second.

“Like I said, I can explain, but I would rather explain for everyone because it’s a long story, but Keith wouldn’t be asking you if he had another choice. Right now, he is starving and he needs help that I can’t give him and he has chosen to trust you.”

Lance wouldn’t look at him or anywhere near him, but he wasn’t running and that’s what mattered.

Shiro put a hand on Lance’s shoulder. “I know this is hard to hear, but please, go talk to him. He’ll be in his room by now.” He gave Lance’s shoulder a (hopefully) comforting squeeze. “He’s still Keith. He needs our help. He needs you.”

Lance brushed Shiro’s hand away. “I’ll go talk to him, but I’m not making any promises.”

Shiro nodded and watched as Lance began to walk towards their rooms. And then he thought of the vervain in his pocket.

“Lance.” This time Lance responded. “It’s going to be dangerous. Take this.” He threw the syringe to Lance and the blue paladin snatched it out of the air before studying it with curiosity. 

“If Keith gets to be too much for you, don’t be afraid to use it.”

Lance gulped. “Will it kill him?”

Shiro gave a sad smile. “No. It’ll hurt like hell and knock him out. But it won’t kill him.”

Lance nodded. “Good.”

With that he made way to Keith’s room in silence.


	4. Bingeing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith finally gets what he needs, but can he keep his hunger in check?

The walk to Keith’s room was too short for Lance’s taste. He’d just had far too much absolutely, completely, entirely impossible information dumped on him and the appearance of the door meant he had to decide what to do with it. Now that Lance was thinking about it, Keith had been too nervous to be faking, too indirect to be lying. He had been afraid to say anything, but he was still saying it and to Lance. And Lance had laughed in his face.

And then there was Shiro. Shiro wasn’t the pranking type. Sure the guy enjoyed a joke here and there and had quite the arsenal of (dad) puns, but to be ‘in on’ a prank like this wasn’t like him. He was so genuine when addressing Lance. He was obviously concerned for Lance, but he was also deeply worried for Keith. If Lance had left Keith feeling like an idiot, he had left Shiro feeling guilty.

What about the vial though? Why had Shiro given him such a precaution? He didn’t really think he would need it, right? Shiro would never send him into something that dangerous. But he’d still done it. And those parameters couldn’t be more vague if they tried. What constituted being ‘too much’ for him? A minor scare? Near death? He just didn’t know. This whole thing was foreign and despite Shiro’s reassurance Lance was still uncertain if he could even believe this. 

But he said he would talk and he would at least do that.

He stuffed the syringe in his pocket and raised a shaking hand to the door and knocked.

And waited.

No response.

He knocked again and still nothing. “Keith?”

The door sped open and a hand shot out to clench the front of Lance’s shirt. It pulled him in and slammed him to the wall. The door sealed before Lance even knew what happened.

There was a hand next to his head and another on his chest still clutching his shirt and Keith was trembling far too much to be this strong. “Keith?”

“Shut up.” Quiet. Barely audible in fact.

“What?”

“SHUT UP.” This time Keith shouted it, driving the point home with a crushing force against Lance’s chest.

Lance gasped and choked, but did as Keith demanded. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t terrified, but he wouldn’t give up yet.

The two stood in unmoving silence. Keith refused to look at Lance and Lance tried to give him time. If only he knew time wasn’t was Keith needed. He needed someone to push him. Make him talk, move forward, but right now every ounce of his will was focused on not biting Lance. Keith could feel his humanity ebbing away, replacing everything he knew with animalistic need. The line between friend and food was quickly blurring to nonexistence and Keith was barely hanging by a thread. He wanted to move away, to give Lance space, to stop Lance from being so scared, but every instinct was against him. They demanded he stay, keep his prey trapped, revel in the fear, smell, taste, bite,  _ feed. _ Lance’s heart was screaming and his pulse was throbbing under Keith’s hand. Why couldn’t he just move?

Lance could hardly breath. He was terrified and his voice paralyzed and all he could do was stare at Keith. Keith who was shaking, trembling, sweating, panting and all because he hadn’t listened. Keith could be healthy right now if he had stayed and listened before. Lance wanted to say he was sorry. He wanted to tell Keith to take whatever he needed. If he wasn’t so goddamn scared. Even as he told himself that he’d gladly give himself over to Keith, his mind fought against it. It still didn’t want to believe this whole thing was real. It wanted him to run, scream, pretend none of this ever happened. It was a bad dream and any minute he would wake up. But his heart knew that the hand on his chest was real, the pressure on his back was real, the sound of breathing in his ears was real and he wanted to say something. To ask Keith if this all was real, to ask for any semblance of evidence that he was a vampire. Just to get his mind to play along. Then he could help. Why couldn’t he just speak?

In the end neither moved, but Keith managed to speak. He swallowed, trying to wet his throat. Make speaking easier. It didn’t work. Nothing would work.

“Why are you here?” he croaked.

Lance closed his eyes and took a long, slow breath.

“Shiro-”

Keith winced. “Too loud.”

Lance lowered his voice. Whispering, “Shiro explained some things to me.”

Keith didn’t answer. Lance wanted him to respond. Say anything. Just so Lance knew he was okay, knew he was still Keith. The silence drew long and Lance mustered the courage to continue.

“He said you’re a vampire. That you’re starving. That you can’t,” Lance gulped, “drink from him. That you need-” Lance couldn’t finish.

This was too much. It was all too much. The very idea was too much and here it was rudely being reality. Sure Lance had seen the movies,  heard the stories, but this was nothing like that. This was not a thrilling, adrenaline fueled romance with a little blood drinking on the side. This was a horror story. His teammate, his friend had turned into a monster and was very possibly moments away from killing him. Lance needed to know that his friend was still in there and he needed Keith to give his mind a reason to get on board.

“I need you to prove that you’re still you. That you’re still Keith. That all this is real. Convince me I’m not making a mistake.”

Keith grunted through his teeth, “How?”

“Let me go.”

Keith tried. He put every bit of his will power into opening his hand but all he managed to do was clench it tighter.

“I can’t,” he choked. “Everything in me is telling me not to let you go. I’m barely stopping myself from-” He was practically sobbing from the effort.

Lance’s breath was shaking, but now he had an idea.

“Then I promise I won’t move. I’ll stay right here and you’re going to prove this is real. Show me something I can’t ignore.”

Keith was warring against himself, but Lance had just offered a path that could satisfy both halves. Allow the human part of him some sense of control and empathy while bringing the vampire part of him closer to a meal. Something had been unlocked and the gears started to turn. 

Keith unclenched his hand slowly. He was still too afraid to show his eyes or fangs, to weak for a show of speed or strength, but he did have something. It was nearly as old as him and was a mark every vampire shared.

He clumsily hooked two fingers into his shirt and wrenched aside his jacket and collar. There, barely visible in the low light, was the scar his sire left him with. Two deep puncture wounds imbedded in the impression of a human bite mark. 

Keith lifted his head and looked at Lance for the first time. He seemed… mesmerized. Of the few people who had seen this scar, Lance was the most intrigued. Lance looked him in the eye and Keith watched as the fear seemed to drain from them. 

Then Lance was taking his jacket off and in one smooth motion it dropped to the floor.

“Lance, what are you-“

Lance shushed him. “Please don’t make me regret this.” He pushed his sleeve up, taking one last shaking breath before saying “Start slow” and offering his wrist.

It was almost too much for Keith to bare. Lance watched in awe as Keith’s eyes grew slitted and glowed a scarlet red. His heart sped as fangs appeared, attempting to jut out over parted lips. Gently, Keith took Lance’s wrist and for just a moment he allowed himself to nuzzle against the skin there, feel the pulse, the rush of blood just beneath the skin. Just the scent of Lance’s skin was intoxicating and the feel of it suited him perfectly. Soft and smooth and wonderfully warm. It almost seemed a shame to mar it with scars. Almost.

Lance hissed. The bite wasn’t painful like he was expecting, but it felt much like ice cold needles. And then it was warm. Sickeningly so, as he realized the warmth wasn’t emanating from the mouth around the wound, but the blood seeping out of it.

Keith was in heaven, or the closest he would ever get to it. He couldn’t imagine why he would ever live without this. It was sweet and it was delicate and it was everything. It was like drinking liquid gold and it was perfect. And it was made all the better because it was being given willingly. He wasn’t taking it. For once, he didn’t have to fight to keep his fangs in or drink shamefully from an unconscious victim. This was the best thing anyone could ever give him. Or maybe it was just because it was Lance.

Lance who never missed a chance to challenge him. Lance who questioned him, who pushed his buttons, who pulled his strings, who made him feel  _ human _ . Lance who was currently giving him his blood.

Lance was confused by the sensation. It was more pleasant than he imagined, but still strange and new. The roughness of Keith’s chapped lips against his skin, his tongue ghosting along the wounds. It was exhilarating to feel, but all the better to watch. Keith had latched onto his wrist and his face seemed to say it was the best thing he’d done in a while. His eyes were shut tight and his mouth pressed ever harder into Lance’s flesh, never losing that gentle touch. Lance wasn’t sure if that was out of kindness or fear of hurting him.

Lance brought his other hand to card through Keith’s hair, earning a gracious sigh. By now Keith was pressed into Lance’s side, thoroughly enjoying the comfort of the embrace and the warmth that made it easier to feel alive. Lance rested his head against the wall, all of the terror from before gone. This was bliss, watching Keith.

Until Keith pulled away. He lapped at the wound until it stopped bleeding. Keith rested his forehead against Lance’s, pulled Lance to him by the nape, breathing heavily and never letting go of Lance’s hand. For a moment, they stood, pressed to each other, in a kind of happy serenity.

“Lance?” Keith breathed.

Lance hummed his acknowledgement.

“I need,” Keith swallowed. It was easier this time. “I need more, I need-” Keith trailed off, gazing shyly at his victim’s long and graceful neck. He’d never noticed how brilliantly sculpted Lance’s neck and shoulders were until now. He felt like he could be staring meekly at the divine.

Lance sighed into a smile. He felt almost drunk, but he didn’t care. Not right now. He wasn’t sure if he would ever care again. All he knew was that he was perfectly happy to let Keith have his way. 

He brought his free hand to caress Keith’s face. “Go ahead. Take it.”

Keith, high on the feeling of fresh blood in his veins, rushed in to catch Lance’s lips and Lance sleepily gave all that he had, wrapping his arms around Keith’s neck as Keith pushed ever closer. Lance groaned as Keith ran his fingers down his side. They broke apart as Keith tipped Lance’s head to the side. Lance didn’t have the strength to argue, not that he could even consider it. Not with those eyes, so close and so intense and so mesmerizing, staring at him, wanting him.

“Take it.”

Keith didn’t hesitate. He was high on this feeling and he never wanted to come down, though he knew he must. Lance was just the same. He was drunk on the attention, the touch, the feeling of Keith pressed against him. He had never thought this would happen, that the childish dreams of his early days at the garrison could ever be real. They were the hopes of a child in awe of the best, the boy in his class that always seemed closer to a man than a child. But here they were, wonderfully being reality.

Keith was kissing and licking his way down Lance’s neck, leaving a trail of pleasurable cool until he finally bit down. Lance couldn’t tell if it hurt or not and he didn’t really care because then Keith was sucking and licking and all he knew was that it felt good.

He was slowly losing himself. Drifting off. Tired, but it felt good. So it couldn’t be that bad, right? And Keith was still drinking and Lance kept fading. He was vaguely aware of Keith holding him up and how little he could feel anymore. Lance thought for a moment that he was dying and he couldn’t help but think it was a nice way to die.

Keith was supporting Lance and was suddenly aware of how much he was taking when Lance went limp. He pulled away, realizing that Lance was unconscious and he was brought crashing down by the thought of Lance being dead.

It couldn’t be true. He couldn’t be a killer, not again.

He thoroughly licked the wound close, but it was no longer enjoyable. The sweet taste of Lance suddenly seemed like motor oil on his tongue. Keith hoisted Lance into his arms and carried him to the bed, the soft skin that was supposed to be tanned and glowing was now pale and cool with sweat.

It wasn’t possible. How did this happen? Everything was fine, good,  _ perfect _ and now this. 

He couldn’t breath. He couldn’t think. What was he going to do? He would have to tell everyone. How could he tell Pidge and Hunk that he killed their best friend? How could he bear the look of disappointment Shiro would give him? Shiro trusted him to control himself, to do this right and he had failed.

He didn’t know what to do. He was brushing Lance’s hair away from his face and running his fingers over the soft cheeks. It wasn’t until Keith saw the tears falling on Lance’s face that he realized he was crying. It was like suddenly a dam broke and he was sobbing into Lance’s chest, clinging on like that would somehow bring him back. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to be full and satisfied. He didn’t deserve the minutes of pure paradise that he had with Lance. He didn’t deserve Lance or Shiro or to be anywhere near the paladins. He didn’t deserve to be alive.

Why did he have to be like this? Why did he have to be a monster?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith takes care of Lance. Or maybe they take care of each other?

Keith didn’t know how long he stayed there. It didn’t really matter. All that mattered was Lance, the one who put his life in Keith’s hands and Keith had snatched it away. It just couldn’t be real. How could he let this happen?

He was so lost and distraught that he didn’t notice the soft whistle of Lance’s breathing or the quick patter of his heart.

Lance’s eyes fluttered open to see Keith with his face pressed into his chest. He lifted a shaking hand to Keith’s shoulder and couldn’t bring himself to be surprised when Keith startled, jolting up to get a better look a Lance.

“Lance! You’re okay,” he said embracing Lance a bit too tightly.

Lance groaned. “Yeah, buddy, I’m okay. What happened?”

Keith pulled away and lowered Lance back to the bed. He ducked his head, ashamed of himself. “I thought I took to much. You were unconscious. I thought you were,” Keith shuddered, “I thought you were dead.”

Lance took Keith by the hand and put on the most reassuring smile he could muster with how tired he felt. “But you didn’t. I’m right here.”

“I know, but just the thought-“

“Then don’t think about it. I’m right here.”

Keith was silent. He was never very good at just not thinking. This struck too close to home. This was how everything started when he went rogue. Just went a little too long. Just took a little too much from a nice stranger.

He didn’t realize he was shaking until long arms were wrapping around him. He clung tight to Lance.

“If you’re going to think about it, you might as well talk. Get it out.”

How was he supposed to talk about this? No. That’s not how Lance was. Lance trusted him.

“I couldn’t do it again.”

“Do what?”

“Be a killer.”

Everything went quiet, but Lance didn’t pull away or even tense. It was like he was thinking, processing.

“And this was worse. Cause I care. About you. About everyone here. About what it would do to them. And now I know what I took away from all those people and from their families. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I just- I’m sorry-“

“Keith.”

Lance, who had been so still and quiet until now, finally spoke and it chilled Keith to the core. His voice was unreadable and Keith had never heard him so calm even when they were at the garrison.

“Did you want to be a vampire?”

He stiffened. He didn’t like where this was going.

“No.”

“Did you want to kill those people?”

“No.”

“Do you regret it?”

Keith swallowed.

“Every day.”

“Then stop being sorry.”

Keith shot up to look Lance in the eye and what he found there was unimaginable: sympathy. Lance was looking at him like a human being. Like someone who made a mistake but not like a killer. Not like a monster.

“I don’t know your past and you don’t have to tell me, but you’re not a monster. Just in the month we’ve been out here you’ve helped save so many people and at the garrison I watched you stand up to bully after bully, but you never hurt anyone.” Lance snickered. “At least, not like you could have.”

Lance smiled and pushed a piece of Keith’s hair away from his face.

“I don’t think you’re a bad person. I think you’re a good person who bad things happened to and you made some big mistakes because of it. But you’re living with it and you’re doing the right thing now. So stop being sorry. You deserve to be here. I want you to be here.”

Keith didn’t know what to say, but he had never been more grateful for the sound of Lance’s voice. He knew how tired Lance must be and how much the wound would be hurting later. But for now, Lance was okay. For now, he had a break. He could rest here and talk to everyone tomorrow. Right now he could breathe and take care of Lance.

Lance who was currently attempting (and failing) to get out of bed.

Keith pushed Lance back.

“What are you doing?”

“I thought you would want to be alone. I was going to go back to my room,” Lance said shyly. He didn’t want to leave. Part of him was telling him to stay here. That Keith needed him still, or that he needed Keith. But he somehow felt like he was intruding. That he had done what he was supposed to and should leave.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

Lance gaped at the authority with which Keith spoke. Keith was absolutely certain that he would be staying and with that Lance’s confusion disappeared.

Keith’s gaze softened as he pulled the blankets over Lance. “Even if I didn’t take enough blood to kill you, you’re still weak. I need to make sure that you stay warm and safe and that you recover properly.”

Lance nodded and settled deeper into the bed. “Okay, I’m not going anywhere.” He hesitated for a moment before adding, “but you have to get some rest too.”

Keith sighed and smirked. Lance always had to think about everyone else, didn’t he? “Move over.”

Lance made to shift closer to the wall when he gasped, his hand flying to his shoulder.

“Lance! What’s wrong?” Keith stuttered.

Lance was hesitant to answer. He knew this was sensitive to Keith. He already had gone through believing Lance was dead. Lance didn’t want him to feel responsible for the pain he was in.

But the look in Keith’s eyes made it difficult to lie.

“My neck, where you bit me, really hurts.”

Keith visibly tensed before asking, “Do you still trust me?”

“Of course.”

Then Keith was leaning over Lance and it was much easier this time to be conscious of how close they were. Keith could feel Lance’s breath on his face as he looked Lance in the eye.

“Trust me a little longer.”

He only hesitated a second before pressing his lips firmly to Lance’s yet again, putting everything he wanted to say but didn’t know how into it. Thank you. I’m sorry. Help me. You have no idea how much this means to me. I wish this kiss wasn’t just to ease the pain.

It was sloppy and breathtaking. Keith kissed Lance senseless and Lance didn’t mind. Lance was wrapping his arms around Keith’s waist as Keith drove a hand under him to pull him closer. After the events that had transpired, it seemed they would never be close enough. Lance was inside of Keith, his blood flowing through his veins and giving him life, Lance was a part of Keith now. To Lance, it felt an awful lot like dancing. Like the two of them were waltzing their way around something neither one wanted to admit they desired.

Lance pulled away needing to breathe, but Keith kept going. He licked and sucked and tasted his way down Lance’s neck again, slower this time. Making sure to enjoy it. When he reached the bite, he laved his tongue over the wound slowly and purposefully, cleaning it of any dried blood and numbing it. He enjoyed the sigh Lance let out as the pain slowly ebbed away.

Keith pulled away, satisfied with his work and he couldn’t help but smile at seeing Lance’s face so tired and peaceful. This was the most subdued he’d ever seen Lance and closest he’d ever felt to him. Maybe there was something here that would last past the night, but for now, Keith climbed under the covers with Lance and pulled his exhausted form to his chest. Despite the energy coursing through his system, the fullness of his stomach demanded rest and so the two drifted off into the void of sleep.

\--

Keith woke the next morning to a soft tapping at the door. He didn’t want to answer. For once he had woken up warm. For the first time in a long time, he woke without a deep ache in his bones or a pounding in his skull. He woke feeling content and satisfied. He woke up with someone soundly asleep next to him, someone who knew his secret and didn’t hate him for it.

He wanted to enjoy it longer. This moment, the warmth of Lance, the way Lance’s back curved perfectly against his chest, the sweet scent that collected in the hollow of Lance’s shoulder, the way chestnut hair tickled his cheek. Finally, there was a heartbeat next to him that seemed to be beating for him rather than reminding him of what he had lost.

But the tapping was incessant.

He rose from the bed, careful not to disturb Lance, and answered the door to find a concerned Shiro on the other side.

“Hey,” Keith breathed, suddenly aware of everything that had happened in the past few days, how he was suddenly in two relationships that were actively changing and he didn’t know where he stood.

“How is he?” Shiro asked, peering past Keith to try and get a look at Lance.

Something in Keith flared at that and Keith didn’t like the idea of Shiro looking in on them. He shifted to interrupt Shiro’s view and Shiro’s eyes widened, recognizing Keith’s need to protect Lance while he was still weak.

“Sorry, but really. Is Lance okay?”

Keith relaxed some as Shiro stepped back and made it obvious he didn’t intend to enter. “He’s fine, still sleeping. I’ll probably have to help him with the pain when he wakes up.”

“Good, that’s good.” Shiro smiled. He was proud of Keith for having kept himself in control and he was happier still that Lance was alive and well. “Do you think he can come to breakfast?”

Keith pondered the question for a moment, leaning against the door frame. “I don’t think so,” he sighed. “I took a lot. He’ll be fine later today, but he’s just not going to be strong enough to do much this morning.”

Shiro nodded. He knew Keith would need a significant amount of blood at first. It made sense for Lance to be out of it for a while. But right now an equally important question was weighing on his mind.

“When are you going to tell everyone?”

Keith closed his eyes. “At breakfast, I guess? All I know is I don’t want Lance stuck in the middle of it. I’d rather him not be there.”

Shiro was just about to respond when movement could be heard inside.

“Keith?”

In an instant, Keith was at Lance’s side. He perched himself on the edge of the bed and grasped the hand reaching out for him.

“I’m right here. How are you?”

Lance sighed. Obviously uncomfortable. “Tired. It hurts, Keith.” He was either unaware or uncaring of the whining tone in his voice.

Keith’s gaze took on a tone of remorse. “I know. I know, I’m sorry. Just hold on a little longer.”

Lance swallowed with difficulty. “Last night. Do what you did last night.”

Keith froze for an instant, trying to decide between two sides of him. One was telling him to help Lance, the one who fed him, saved him. The one who had unknowingly forced him to face his feelings. The other was distinctly aware of Shiro, who had been there for him through thick and thin and had freshly reminded him of the relationship he could never move on from, watching them.

Eventually, his need to help Lance won out. Shiro would understand, right? He could deal with this later.

Keith leaned down to Lance, running his fingers through soft hair and eliciting a shiver from him. He pressed his lips to the blue paladin’s and this time it was slower. The fire in their veins had calmed, but it still drew them together. Lance threw his arms around Keith’s neck, not wanting to let him leave. When Lance was finally breathless, Keith kissed at the mark on his neck. The mark that said Lance was his, at least for now.

Lance settled back against the bed, comfortable again with the pain subsiding. “Thank you,” he sighed, but with the pain gone there was a new problem.

Lance’s stomach churned audibly and everyone in the room was laughing. When Lance had calmed enough to form coherent sentences, he jokingly whined, “I need food. Someone made me miss dinner last night,” jabbing at Keith’s leg.

“I know, I know,” Keith huffed, “but you're not strong enough to be out of bed. I’ll bring you something.” Then he sighed, expression darkening. “Lance, I’m going to tell everyone at breakfast, the sooner I tell everyone the better, but I don’t want you-”

“Stop right there.” Lance’s expression was somewhere between angered and insulted. “I’m as much a part of this as you and Shiro now, so I want to be there.” When Keith responded only with a shocked expression, he continued, “Besides, it’ll be better if everyone can actually see that I’m okay.”

“You’re right, but you’re still not coming to breakfast.”

“But-” Lance protested.

“You’re not coming to breakfast. I’ll tell everyone at lunch.”

Lance grumbled but seemed relatively satisfied with the response.

“Good. Now, I’m going to go get you some food.”

\--

The walk to the dining room was silent. Keith played with the idea of whether or not he should say something about what had happened between him and Lance and by the time he made up his mind, he and Shiro were standing just outside the door.

“Sorry you had to watch that.”

Shiro froze, not expecting the apology. Then, the insecurity he was trying to ignore began seeping in. He wanted to think that Keith was just taking care of Lance, acting out of responsibility and instinct, but a part of him recognized how gentle Keith had been. He let the moment drag on and let himself enjoy it. Lance offered something to Keith that Shiro never could.

But that wasn’t for Keith to worry about.

“It’s okay. I know you were just taking care of him.”

“Are you sure?”

Rather than respond, Shiro simply stepped closer and pressed a kiss to Keith’s forehead before entering the dining room.

If Keith was concerned before, now it felt like he was on pins and needles, walking a tightrope between his feelings for two different people and every second with either of them threatened to tip him one way or the other.

Right now he couldn’t dwell. He needed to get back to Lance.

\--

At first, Lance was happy for a few minutes alone, but then he was struck by an uncomfortable emptiness. The room just seemed so quiet and foreign. The lack of anything that truly belonged to Keith was depressing and only reminded Lance of the red paladin’s absence.

He didn’t understand it. Normally the thought of being alone with Keith was slightly terrifying. He never knew if he was going to embarrass himself or get into another argument, but now he wanted Keith by his side. He missed the coolness of his skin, the surprising gentleness of his touch, the way they were talking without fighting.

Lance didn’t want it to end. He thought maybe they found something that would work for them, even if it was weird, whatever it made them.

He was just getting up the energy to really contemplate that question when Keith walked in carrying something that smelled absolutely sublime.

Almost immediately, Lance was sitting up in bed.

“Hey. Be careful,” Keith warned, “I don’t need you passing out on me… or getting food in my bed.” He begrudgingly handed over the plate. Lance didn’t even have time to respond before Keith was turning away, mentioning something about a shower.

Before he could get too far away, Lance shot out to grab his hand. He didn’t know what possessed him to do it, but still, he found himself with his fingers pressed into Keith’s palm.

“Sorry… I- Uh- I just wanted to say thank you.”

Keith lowered his gaze.

“For what?”

“For being patient with me. For helping with the pain. For taking care of me. Thank you, really.”

It was inexplicable why Lance was saying this, but neither of them expected what happened next. Lance was leaning down and pressing a feather-light kiss to Keith’s knuckles.

Keith snatched his hand away.

“I’m- I’m sorry, I just- I can’t-”

And Keith disappeared into the connected bathroom.

When he emerged again, neither he nor Lance spoke, but they still managed to settle into some kind of easy silence. Eventually, Lance fell asleep again leaning against the bed wall and Keith couldn’t help himself from pulling his sleeping form into his arms. It was simple like this. Nothing to talk about or figure out. Just Keith with a sleeping Lance curled into his chest. When Lance squirmed or seemed distressed, Keith would shush him and resume his ministrations on Lance’s neck until he calmed again. It was easy and if Keith felt a certain happy warmth in his chest unrelated to what Lance radiated, well, no one had to know.  


 


End file.
